


Random Woes

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Woes Series [8]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Non-Consensual, Rape, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various woes that may befall Sentinel Prime...</p>
<p>1. Unnamed Decepticon Character/Sentinel<br/>2. Shockwave/Sentinel/(Blurr)<br/>3. Prompt -- Egyptian Woes; Sentinel’s first time being ‘worshipped’ at a temple<br/>4. Prompt -- Sentinel/Decepticon - “Be a good pet and crawl to Master. My spike won’t suck itself.”<br/>5. Prompt -- Dinobot mate AU: Grimlock/Sentinel- “This me Grimlock’s cave. You Grimlock mate stay in cave!”<br/>6. Prompt  -- Jettwins(Safeguard)/Sentinel- “I can take you both!”<br/>7. Prompt -- Victorian AU drabbles - 'Marry for money' and “Hello, <i>Lady Sentinel</i>. So good to see you again.”<br/>8. Prompt -- Centaur!Sentinel/? - “I don’t want to be your mare! Stay away from me!”<br/>9. Prompt -- Harem woes: Sentinel/Quintessons- breaking in the new mech<br/>10. Prompt -- Christmas AU: 'Wrapping the gifts' and 'Stocking stuffers'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Woe 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are for more Sentinel torture.  
> Although I have plans for a series of precise stories, they are rather slow in coming along, as the plots drag their feet and don't want to cooperate.  
> So I decided to try something else, and use some various bunnies involving Sentinel which didn't turn into full-fledged stories... or at least, that I didn't manage to develop into larger ones.  
> If anyone has suggestions for more Random Woes, don't hesitate to let me know. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter/Woes 1 background: Sentinel was captured on a mission/Decepticon raid/whatever and brought to New Kaon as a pet/slave, given to the victor of a competition. Of course, the (anonymouos/unamed) Decepticon who won him can only think of one way to use the pretty Autobot...

The crop crackled with energy as it whipped past him. Sentinel eyed it warily (ok, fearfully, but he wasn’t about to admit it aloud – especially when he couldn’t anyway) and tried to move back, to no avail. His captor gave him an unimpressed look.

“Good pets stay unmoving unless asked to,” the Decepticon commented airily. “How many times must I repeat it before it sinks in?”

Sentinel glared at him. He was nobody pet! He wanted to shout it loudly, and insult the freaking Con at the same time. His bound hands tightened in fists as he thrashed and shouted through the gag.

“MMmmmmpphhh! Mmpht! MmmphMmmph!” he screamed as best as he could. True, it made no sense whatever, but he felt better shouting down his rage.

The crop crackled again. “Good pets don’t protest, Sentinel. Must I punish you again to make you learn? For you seem to enjoy being punished, don’t you, Sentinel?” he almost purred. “Don’t you worry, I have the perfect thing in mind to remind you of your position,” he said as he pulled out a large false spike out of subspace.

Sentinel’s optics widened and his spark missed a beat. His valve clenched around the toy already stuffing him, making him keen as the vibrator seemed to just go faster suddenly – damned thing was working in a ‘random’ pace, sometimes fast and sometimes so slowly he barely felt anything. Nononononono! He didn’t want to get ‘punished’, Primus damnit! He didn’t want another of these dirty toy shoved in his valve! He wanted to get away and run for his life, and perhaps defeat a few Decepticons along the way; not be used like… like an interface toy! He shook his head and protested once more.

“Mmmmph! Mmm! MMphmmph!”

The crop slide lightly along his face, even as the Decepticon knelt before his bound form. “Hush now, little Prime, and be good. If you are, then I won’t let you in that position for… much longer,” he purred as he discarded the crop and cupped Sentinel’s cheek. At the look of revulsion in the Autobot’s optics, he chuckled. “Behave,” he warned as he took in the sight before him, “and if you’re extra nice, I’ll give you a treat. Mmm, perhaps I could let you have a spike overload or two, what do you think?” he said as he stroked the Prime’s jaw lightly.

Sentinel Prime made a very arousing sight presently. The Autobot captive was bound with his hands behind his back, kneeling on the floor, legs largely held apart and cuffed together at the ankles, ankles and forelegs themselves tied up to large metal rings sealed into the floor. A collar encircled his neck; not one of this dull, massive looking thing they usually saddled on the Autobots they send in the mines and factories as manual workers, no, but a thinner, prettier one, golden in color and finely chiselled with glyph indicating the name of the Autobot and his status as Pet. A small medal with the name of his trainer/owner and his coordinates hung from it.

The Prime’s big mouth was forced open by a special gag. The mouth was kept in a nice ‘o’ shape by a ring, which was easily filled with a ball or a false spike, or a real one if one was in the mood to get some oral from the pretty pet he was busy taming and training. As it was, it was very tempting to indulge in and burry himself in that mouth… but first off, he had something else to do.

He lowered his gaze to look with appreciation at the Prime’s crotch. His interface panel had been removed, exposing a very enticing interface array. His spike stood proudly erected. Well proudly… it really was small and cute next to the average Decepticon, but it was of fair size for an Autobot. The rod stayed erected due to a ring encircling the base, as well as colorful ribbons tightly bound in crisscross patterns all over the length, ending in a large bow just under the slightly bulbous tip. A small bell was also fastened by the bow, jingling with every move Sentinel made. The Decepticon stroked the Autobot’s spike with a finger, making Sentinel shudder and whimper, the blue mech shaking with unwilling pleasure at the additional touch. His spike bobbled in the air with every shudder, the bell jingling maddly.

“Mmm, nice,” the Decepticon purred.

He focused next on the valve, in which a vibrator in working condition was already shoved. Lubricant was dripping around the toy and slowly staining the dark thighs with silvery-pink fluid. Casually, the Decepticon stroked the inside of one thigh and brought his lubricant-covered fingers to his face, observing them for a while before licking them clean with very appreciative noises, making sure Sentinel was watching him. The Prime’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and, sadly, in guilty pleasure too.

Slag it! He didn’t like being fragged against his will! And there was nothing even remotely pleasurable at watching a slagging Decepticon licking out his lubricant!

“You always taste so deliciously, it’s almost sinful,” he hummed in satisfaction as he knelt down before Sentinel and reached for his valve, despite Sentinel trying to lean back in his bonds and keep away. It only made his captor chuckle. “Still playing so shy, even when you’re so wet?” he said as he pushed a finger inside the quivering valve alongside the vibrator. Sentinel tensed and made muffled sound which just amused his captor.

“So noisy!” he said airily as he pushed another finger inside, trying and starting to stretch the port further, to Sentinel’s discomfort and panic as he tried to thrash in his bond, to little effect. He didn’t want another slagging false spike inside him!

“Mmmpph!Mmmmmmmphhh!” he moaned and shook his head as he felt the tip of the toy press against the rim of his valve.

“Shhhhh,” he Decepticon whispered, kissing Sentinel’s forehead. “Be good and you’ll see, it’ll feel wonderful,” he said with a smirk.

Tenderly, he started to press the toy harder, the tip already pushing past the edge of the valve, ready to sink in…

And then the Decepticon stilled completely. His optics took a glazed look Sentinel, despite his panic, recognized as the one most mechs got when they were receiving a call on their internal comms lines.

Time seemed to stop momentarily, and Sentinel barely dared let his vents work to cool down his overheating frame, the least he would bring back the Decepticon’s attention back to him. The mech was frowning and nodding or shaking his head at random intervals, but he was still pressing that damn toy against Sentinel’s valve, and it wasn’t impossible he decided to continue his… activities while continuing his unheard conversation.

Finally, the Con sighed and spoke aloud. “Very well. I’ll come.”

He looked down at Sentinel, looking unhappy. “Slag it... no time for proper fun,” he sighed as he put the false spike down, and Sentinel’s shoulders sagged in relief. His optics shot wide and he gasped behind the gag as fingers inserted themselves roughly in his valve and started to pull the vibrator out. Sentinel moaned in relief as it was coaxed out. His valve quivered, clenching on nothing, which felt both weird and incredibly relieving.

Unexpected calls had some good to them, he mused dazedly as he tried to savour the feeling of not being overly stuffed for once. His captor often had to leave the house in a hurry and leave him behind, which Sentinel wasn’t to complain about. Most of the time, it wasn’t for long, and he made a point of letting whatever toys he kept stuffing him with inside, with a camera constantly filming him as he unwillingly overloaded. However, whenever the absence went longer than a couple of megacycles, the Decepticon only kept him bound to the berth, and Sentinel took advantage of it to recharge, rest and plot his future escape.

Looked like it was such a time, which Sentinel silently rejoiced at… But not for long, for his Spark sunk with dread as he spotted his captor take a leash out of subspace.

_Oh frag, no…_

He wanted him to accompany him this time.

Sentinel hadn’t set a foot outside his captor house in… well, he didn’t know when he had arrived precisely, because his chronometer tended to glitch with all the charges he went through, but he hadn’t gone outside since arriving on fragging New Kaon. He had been dragged off in the streets by the aforementioned leash, passers-by watching him laughing and making lewd comments at him as they stared at his aft.

From time to time, his captor -- he refused to ever call him Master or even by his designation, because it would have been acknowledging a defeat, and Sentinel would never do so if he could help it -- took him on walks in the property little garden, so Sentinel could ‘get some exercise’. He also used it in ‘games’ Sentinel didn’t want to think about.

He didn’t want anyone to spot him with that… thing around his neck again!

The Prime shook his head, already stating his refusal for what the Decepticon had in mind, but the mech smirked at him. “What, aren’t you happy we’re going on a walk together, Pet?” He patted Sentinel’s helm in a half-mocking, half-fond way. “Sorry, my darling Prime, but I can’t let you alone here this time. Besides, I’ve been asked a lot of questions about you. You wouldn’t know how many mechs have wanted to get a good glance at you yet! They’re so jealous I’m having such a good pet,” he chuckled as he grabbed Sentinel by the throat as the Prime tried to hold his head away, not wanting the dirty Con to attach that leash to the shameful collar he was wearing. “I trust you’ll be well-behaved in public, won’t you? Because if you weren’t…” he trailed off and his optics glinted in malice even as his hold on Sentinel’s throat tightened, “I’ll be forced to punish you,” he finished. “And trust me, you don’t want me to do that.”

Sentinel gulped nervously. Oh yeah, he could imagine it. The Con treated him like an interface toy, but he wasn’t into pain-play… much. He had, however, seen him lash out at other Decepticons during a ‘spar’, or so they had called it, to say nothing of the display of brutality the Prime had witnessed when he had been offered as a ‘prize’ for the winner of a competition. From what another captive had said to him, he was ‘lucky’ to have been an officer and relatively good-looking; captured Autobots with little charm or no rank ended up on the public market, and anybody could have a grab at him. ‘Competitions’ usually involved Decepticon officers as participants, who were much more well-behaved and restrained than the average Decepticon.

Restrained… yeah, right, he mentally snorted. Even as he internally scoffed, he nodded and sagged in acceptance, letting the leash be installed without fussing anymore. It made his captor smile.

“Good Prime,” he said with approval. “Now, a last something before we go,” the Decepticon commented as he reached for the false spike he had discarded before.

“Mmmmph!” Sentinel shouted. That wasn’t part of the plan at all!

The Decepticon petted him. “Oh, don’t worry, my pet, it won’t stop you from walking. We did this before, didn’t we? And you’ve taken larger ones before,” he chuckled to himself as he slide two fingers inside the still stretched port and massaged it for a few kliks before pressing the toy against the rim once more.

The larger false spike was slowly pushed inside, until its flanged end hit the rim and magnetized itself to Sentinel’s plating, cutting short any attempt to dislodge it, much to the Prime’s dismay.

“Mmph! Mmmmmamammppp!!!” he mumbled still jerking in a vain attempt to get it off, only to stop and moan as his moves made the toy shift inside him, stroking nods he’d rather not have stroked. His hips involuntarily buckled as he felt a spasm of very unwanted pleasure rush through his frame, to his captor’s amusement. The bell jingled loudly as the Decepticon started to unfasten the restrains around Sentinel’s ankles.

“See, it isn’t so bad, is it? Now get up, Pet,” he said with a tug on the leash.

Forced to comply, the Prime stood slowly, mindful of his bound hands and stiff joints; he has stayed kneeling for so long he had lost track of time and his body felt heavy. At the same time, he couldn’t help but wince or moan as the toy shifted into him with every move. Finally, he stood, trying to hold his head proudly despite the redness of his cheeks. It was so slagging humiliating!

To think he was going to be paraded like that in town… following a Decepticon holding him by a leash… gagged… bound… interface array bare… his spike stiff and decorated with ribbons and a bell… his valve stuffed full by a false spike… for an unknown amount of time…

He twitched. The day he escaped this place, he was so going to kill all Decepticons he could…


	2. Woe 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random Woes 2: The Decepticons took over Cybertron, and Sentinel find himself in a predicament he would never have imagined. Really, who would have guessed he would be the one the traitorous Head of Intelligence would take as a ‘pet’?
> 
> Pairings: Shockwave/Sentinel, hinted Shockwave/Blurr, sort of/future Shockwave/Sentinel/Blurr, hinted Blitzwing/Optimus, hinted Megatron/Ultra Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new Random Woes! Yay! \o/  
> Hope you'll like. :)

Nononono! It was too… too undignified for words! No way he’d let himself be treated like that! Shaking his head and writhing, Sentinel tried to buck and escape the hold his captor had on him, to no avail. With an amused snort, he was pushed back down easily and bent over the desk without effort, a large clawed hand pressing down on his back to make him stay still while another hand stroked his aft.

“Mmph!” he protested through his gag, still trying to get off of the polished surface of the metal desk.

“Stop struggling,” the mech behind him rumbled as he rubbed his pelvic armor against the Prime’s aft. “Must I teach you once more how to be a good pet?” he asked, almost bored, and Sentinel shuddered and stilled a bit.

“Good,” the other mech rumbled, sounding pleased. “You’re learning. Very good indeed,” he mused, his hand running over Sentinel’s aft before a digit came to tease the opening of the Prime’s bare valve. Sentinel shifted a bit, keening through his gag, wanting nothing more than to hide his interface array away from the prying optics and digits of the Decepticon holding him down. His panel, however, had been removed a good while ago because of his ‘rebelliousness’ and ‘unwillingness to obey commands’, and he had no way to hide.

The large clawed digit pushed past the folds of his valve and started to pump in and out, making Sentinel cry out through his gag.

Cheeks flushing, he felt drops of lubricant escape his valve and trail down his inner thigh, and he wiggled his aft almost by reflex at the discomfort of the sensation of the sticky liquid against his plating. It amused greatly his Decepticon captor.

“My, my, already so wet? Eager for more, aren’t you? Well, who am I to refuse you?” he rumbled, and Sentinel’s Spark sunk as he heard the tell-tale sound of an interfacing panel opening and a spike rising up out of its housing. The hand that had been fondling his aft and the digit that had been pumping in his valve were withdrawn, and the stiff erected spike of the Decepticon rubbed against him in small circles that made the Prime almost panic.

_Slaggit, stop playing with me_ , he wanted to shout!

The tip of the spike was slowly aligned with his dripping valve, and Sentinel shuttered his optics as he felt it press against the rim of his port, just short of entering. A knock at the door made him light them up again in surprise, at the same time as a muffled shout escaped him as the thick rod of his captor started to thrust into him.

“Enter,” the Decepticon hissed as he guided more of his length inside the body of the smaller mech bend over his desk.

The door slide aside, and a mech hesitantly took a step inside, only to froze at the sight before him and gulping. “Long… Shockwave, Sir? I… I’ll come back later if you’re busy,” the newcomer stammered, already trying to take a step back.

“No need,” Shockwave said simply as he fully buried his spike inside Sentinel’s tight valve. “Please, Agent Blurr, enter and sit down.”

“But Sir…” the lithe Autobot stammered, glancing at Sentinel and blushing before looking elsewhere.

“I insist, Agent Blurr,” was the reply, a hint of warning in the tone.

To his credit, Sentinel thought, the Intelligence Agent tried to look anywhere but at his… ‘superior’ or the Prime, instead sitting stiffly in one of the large seats Shockwave had adorned ‘his’ office with to receive Decepticon ‘guests’ and looking at the wall in front of him. The redness and hotness of his cheeks belied his unease, though. And, Sentinel thought bitterly, the mech did nothing to try and help him. Neither did any Autobot, ever.

Slag, was it so hard to try and revolt and get him to escape?!

He moaned muffledly as Shockwave started to move into him, drawing his thick spike out of him by half before thrusting back in, ramming his spike inside him to the point it almost hurt. His spike, despite the lack of attention, reacted to the pleasured stimulus coming from his valve and started to stiffen in turn as he was fragged again and again. Shockwave, the son-of-a-trash-compactor, just laughed at the predicament of his former ‘drill-sergeant’.

“It seems you were even more eager than I thought,” he teased before looking at the smaller mech who was shuffling uneasily in his seat. “Well, Agent Blurr, report,” he said in rather… gentle way to the mech.

It was so unfair, Sentinel thought bitterly.

Why did he have to be the… the interface toy while other Autobots, Blurr among them, retained the right to work for the ‘new administration’?! Perceptor was still working, under supervision, for the Science Ministry, and Optimus and his ragtag team were still allowed to work on Space Bridges. Eck, virtually all Autobots or Elita Guard members were allowed to pursue their activities, under ‘due supervision’ by their new overlords! So why, why did he end up among the fews ‘relegated from their duties’ and transformed into… into cheap pleasurebots?!

Slag, it was obvious Shockwave had some sort of interest in the smaller blue mech! It would have been ‘logical’ for him to pick him as… as ‘pet’! Or even the Bumbler on Optimus’ team! They had some sort of history dating back from Autoboot Camp, no? Or even Cliffjumper, ‘Longarm Prime’s secretary’ for over who-knew how many stellar cycles! Yeah, one would have expected him to take one of these ‘bots! Not Sentinel!

But here he was, getting fragged over a desk while he tried to half-listen to the report of Blurr, which was getting increasingly hard as Shockwave picked up his pace and kept pounding into his valve relentlessly.

The Prime tried to glare at Blurr, but he had a hard time doing so. He kept panting and producing muffled moans as he was thoroughly fragged. All the while, Blurr was speaking, and Shockwave listening with what Sentinel supposed was approval.

Slagging Con… To think Sentinel had trusted the mech! And he had backstabbed them all! Primus, he remembered the shock and incredulousness he had felt when ‘Longarm Prime’ had revealed his true colors, showing himself as a traitor and a Decepticon-under-guise. He had literally offered Cybertron for Megatron’s easy picking after an attack by a mysterious mech -- Shockwave himself, of course -- had incapacitated the Magnus and send him on Spark-support! All the slagging traitor had to do from here was send the Space Bridges’ activations code to the Decepticons Warlord, bide his time and… the rest was a rather bitter pill to swallow.

The Elite Guard hadn’t been able to react in time, and their effort had been sabotaged from the inside. Decepticons had rendered themselves masters of Cybertron in a couple of megacycles, Autobots warriors being outnumbered, and civilians unable to defend themselves, even less so offer some kind of resistance to the invasion. By the end of the solar cycle, a triumphant Megatron was sitting at Ultra Magnus’ desk in Fortress Maximus and proclaiming the Decepticons’ total victory in all the Commonwealth.

And amidst all that, there stood Shockwave, who had personally incapacitated over half of the Elite Guard’s commanders during the invasion, Sentinel among them, profiting from his disguise of Longarm to stab them in the back with paralytic chemicals. Here he was, his prisoners at his pedes, saluting the Decepticon Warlord who held his true loyalty, reporting to him the success of his ‘mission’.

No victory would have been possible without Shockwave, Megatron had proclaimed. The mech would become a high advisor to the Warlord, and part of Cybertron’s new administration. And, since he had been such a valiant and faithful soldier, it was only fair he’d be the first one recompensed, with the reward of his choice. Shockwave had ‘graciously accepted the honor Megatron was giving him’ and announced what he desired.

So the Warlord had… ‘recompensed’ him. With Sentinel, since it was the desire Shockwave had stated.

The Prime could have hardly say who was the most surprised with the request.

*-*-*-*-*

_“You want… him? You’re sure?” Megatron seemed a bit… puzzled, one could say, though he did watch Sentinel carefully, in a way that made the Prime very uneasy. But it was nothing next to the alarm he felt at Shockwave asking for him as a reward for his services. The Warlord hummed. “Although I don’t deny he has some appeal,” and such words coming from the Decepticon Warlord’s mouth felt so wrong altogether it made Sentinel shudder “ and would probably make a good berth toy, I had been lead to believe you’d want someone else to grace your berth,” he noted, interrogative. “Surely, there are prettier or finer bots among our new captives that’d just as good as him?”_

_Sentinel’s optics widened with alarm. ‘Grace’ Shockwave’s BERTH?! Nonononono! No way! He was the Elite Guard’s sub-commander, not some… some Decepticon toy or some cheap pleasurebot that would spread his legs for anybot! Besides, surely Shockwave was designating someone else?! He couldn’t honestly be… be lusting after Sentinel?!_

_“My Lord, I stand by my choice.” Shockwave said calmly, bowing to his Lord. “You are in the true in saying that there are finer bots that would look more enthralling at a true Decepticon’s arm, relegating them as simple berth warmers would be an awful waste of talents and competences.”_

_“Oh? Is that so?” Megatron asked with a raised optic ridge as he looked around at the various captive kneeling to the floor, kept in line by his troops._

_“Indeed, my Lord,” Shockwave said smoothly. “As you may have guessed, my time serving you undercover allowed me to carefully observe and study the functioning of the Autobots institutions and the individuals which compose them. Although most of them of the institutions are or will soon become useless, and the ones who aren’t will need some reorganization to function under Decepticon management, I couldn’t help but notice just how precious most of the workers were.”_

_Shockwave paused, looking at the taller Decepticon for some sort of reaction or acknowledgement. Megatron nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue._

_“For the sake of an… easier takeover for the civilian population, and to allow the Decepticon Empire to truly rise, it would be best our mighty warriors shouldn’t have to deal with such thing as… administration,” he sneered, “or some offices. At the same time, competent workers can very well reinforce our own troops -- with due supervision, of course,” he added quickly. “Learning how to work or maintain a Space Bridge, for example, is a time consuming task, and although our own warriors should be able to do so, why shouldn’t we make use of the bots who already know how to do such tasks?” he asked, bowing very lowly._

_Megatron hummed. “Hmm, you do have a point, Shockwave,” he conceded. “It would certainly speed up our projects of extension. However, if you want to use the Autobots so badly already for their acquired skills, wouldn’t that make this one invaluable at his current task?” he asked, making a gesture at the prone Sentinel who felt like nodding energetically._

_Yes, yes! He could be very useful, is that what they were asking of him! He’d work with them if he needed to -- and he’d try to plot a rebellion in their back if he could help it!_

_Shockwave, however, shook his head. “Sentinel Prime is part of what I’d love to call the… ‘old administration’. Whatever skills he has are currently useless, and it is my reasoning that only useful mecha be allowed to keep their current position and rank. He,” he said, grabbing Sentinel’s chin to look at him in the optics, “has no skill that a competent Decepticon can’t cover already. As such, a… reassignment so his competences are better used is in order.”_

_“And his competences will be better used in your berth?” Megatron laughed. “Very well, I will comply with your choice and see if that idea of yours can be applied. At any rate,” he smirked, “it’ll give me something to do with Ultra Magnus instead of executing him.”_

_“I knew my Lord would see the point,” Shockwave answered in a deep rumble, and Sentinel’s optics widened as he loomed over him and reached for him…_

*-*-*-*-*

A quickening of Shockwave’s pace broke Sentinel out of his memory replay and he groaned loudly under the gag. In the seat across the table, Blurr shifted, ill-at-ease, and paused in his report. He tugged at the metal collar around his neck uneasily.

The lithe mech never got used to any of… these. The Decepticons weren’t… well, they weren’t cruel, but they were overbearing. They were also a very suspicious lot, always watchful, especially of ‘Autobots workers’. Identity and security controls happened often, several time a solar cycle sometimes. They didn’t directly interfere in the work, however, nor did they stop the Autobots from accessing bars or concerts or race tracks, and for that most mechs Blurr had met with were grateful.

None of them were prisoners, exactly, but… Well, they certainly weren’t as free as they used to be. They were also far more vulnerables. Part of the deal they all had to agree on to continue working was to get all their weapons or combat mods removed. Then, they had to wear a collar, whose mechanisms could be remote-controlled and block transformation sequences, as well as give away their position at any given time. Mechs who worked on Space Bridge, like Optimus or Rodimus’ crews, were also forced to take several Decepticons 'Supervisors' with them. These Cons were there both to watch and, which often baffled most bots, to protect the ‘defenceless’ crew. Blurr had to admit it made sense; the Autobots couldn’t just handle most danger by themselves without tools, thick armor or weapons. It didn’t meant they had to be happy about it. Last time he had managed to speak with Bumblebee, the Minibot had been ranting about ‘that freak Blitzwing’ and the way he kept ‘pursuing Optimus’.

Blurr found some comfort in thinking that, so long Optimus did his job -- and him too, by the way -- he could at least refuse the lustful advances of random Decepticons.

Mechs who didn’t… ended like Sentinel Prime, made ‘pets’ for specific warriors or dragged to pleasure establishment to serve the greater number. The ‘lucky’ ones could agree to a ‘formal courtship’ and be left alone by most, but in turn would be expected to Bond with the Decepticon courting them and become an official mate.

It was… messed up, and confusing, and Blurr, like most Autobots, didn’t know what to think or do.

He almost cringed for Sentinel as he saw the Prime’s getting pounded into in a way that probably had to hurt, given the size difference between him and the Decepticon Director. He wished he could help, if only a little, but he had learned since long that getting into the way of a Decepticon Pit-bend on fragging a… ‘pet’ was a sure way to end up in the Medbay. Not that he thought that Shockwave would actually hurt him, oh no, but… Well, he could take away his transformation and racing privileges, and Blurr didn’t think he’d could endure it. Not when it was one of the only things allowing him to destress.

Sentinel made another muffled sound as Shockwave buried his spike deep into him again. He didn’t sound very comfortable. Then again, considering just how much Shockwave fragged him on a solar cycle basis, the Prime was probably used to it. The noises he made, even muffled by the gag, didn’t sound pained at all. Quite the contrary, actually, and if Blurr had to judge by the way the Prime’s spike had stiffened and bobbed when the Prime wasn’t getting pressed onto the table’s surface…

Watching his… commander fragging the Prime -- or ex-Prime, depending on how you looked at it -- made him very aware of the heat pooling between his own thighs. He really wanted to be somewhere else by now, because it was wrong to feel excited over watching his commander -- former commander -- get basically raped by his current Commander. And it was unsettling to see Shockwave’s face when Blurr could far-too-well remember the face and kindness of Longarm. Of course, Shockwave wasn’t unkind himself, not with ‘his Agents’ as he liked to call them, but he was a Decepticon, so he was dangerous, and it was wrong to find him sexy or to find Sentinel sexy like that, being fragged so hard his whole frame was shaking...

“Blurr? You were saying?” the tall Decepticon asked, and Blurr startled, eliciting a chuckle from his Commander.

“Distracted, aren’t you?” he asked teasingly as he rammed his spike into Sentinel’s valve once more. The Prime’s tight port clenched hard around his length and he purred. “Such a good pet you are, Sentinel,” he said, patting the Prime’s aft. Blurr gulped, the heat between his legs seeming to increase as he watched the small gesture, one that was not unusual for Shockwave. Sentinel glared at the Decepticon over his shoulder, shifting to look at him. Shockwave seemed amused by it. “Still so defiant? And here I was thinking to give you a recompense!” he mock-pouted -- well, as well as someone without an actual face could pout. “Here I was ready to share you with Agent Blurr, to thank him for his good work! Wouldn’t you have like to frag with another Autobot?” he asked, squeezing Sentinel’s aft.  
Both Autobots’ optics widened, and Blurr’s jaw dropped.

“S… Sir?!”

Surely, he hadn’t just heard…? He glanced down at Sentinel, taking in the bound in the back wrists, the gag, the lubricant trailing down otherwise spotless thighs, and the stiff spike that just seemed to beg to be touched and the heat just… surged.

For his part, Sentinel looked in shock at Shockwave. He couldn’t be serious, could he? … Oh Primus, who was he kidding?! Shockwave was always serious when it came down to… to shameless, kinky things! Slag, he had just kept fragging him in front of Megatron and Ultra Magnus during a meeting! Sentinel’s only consolation that time had been that Ultra Magnus had not been better treated, he too was bent over the table and fragged.

He wiggled, trying to get away, but the position he was in was far from allowing him enough leverage, and Shockwave’s hand on his back was pushing him down hard against the polished metal surface. And a charge was crackling through him, he was so near an overload… But that didn’t meant he wanted to end up in a… a demented form of threesome!

Sentinel started to make a lot of noises, protesting, though only muffled sounds managed to go through his gag. Shockwave stopped abruptly to pound, making the Prime keen in surprise as his valve clenched hard around the Decepticon’s spike, squeezing it, trying to milk out transfluid that hadn’t been released yet. However, the damn Con wasn’t so easily brought over the edge, Sentinel knew it. His valve kept rippling, and he could only wiggle his aft more, not to escape this time, but to try and get the damn Decepticon to start again.

Sentinel was so close to overload, so close slaggit! He glanced desperately at Shockwave. The Decepticon, however, wasn’t looking at him, but at Blurr.

“Is there a problem, Agent Blurr?”

The lithe mech gulped. “S… I can’t possibly accept, Sir,” he stammered, looking put out, but he was crossing his legs in a way that Shockwave found very telling. He was very flustered, which was also a clue the proposition he was being made could eventually be accepted, provided Shockwave was persuasive enough.

“Is that so?” The tall mech said airily, not caring much for Sentinel’s constant wiggling. “My sensors indicate however that your body’s heat is rising up,” he commented offhandedly, making Blurr blush. “My proposition doesn’t leave you insensible, I take? You have been a hard worker, Blurr, a very good Agent, and I received nothing but positive comments from your field supervisors. You have largely deserved a reward. So why not accept?”

“It… it would be wrong, Sir,” he stammered. “And… I thought it was about rewarding Sentinel?”

Shockwave would have smirked had he wore Longarm’s face. “You could call it a double reward,” he explained amiably. “For Sentinel because he has been a good pet lately, taking my spike almost eagerly--” Sentinel’s cheeks took a very red hue “-- and for you because you did your best despite… what I acknowledge are shaking and perturbating circumstances. I know the change in management was hard on you,” he said not unkindly, and Blurr’s ducked his head to the side, looking ashamed. “No, no, don’t be shy. I know it isn’t easy for anyone. I’m just pleased you seem to adapt so well. However, I can’t help but see how tense you have been -- and still are -- these last orns. This is why I’d like you to enjoy yourself. And what better way to relax than to overload in the arms of a pretty mech?” he asked, sounding genuine.

Blurr gulped. “I… I don’t know. Sentinel…”

Shockwave’s optics glinted. “You need to understand something, Blurr. The old order doesn’t exist anymore -- I know it still unsettle you, but now, Cybertron will live with Decepticon Culture at his foremost. According to the rules and laws of this culture, it is Sentinel’s role to pleasure others now. He is not you superior anymore, nor is he your equal,” Shockwave reminded him. “As a… trained companion,” he said diplomatically, knowing how hard it was for Autobots to actually accept the use of the term ‘pet’ when referring to some of their fellows, “he has less right than a useful worker, less so than a standard citizen and certainly none of the rights of a mate.” He let that sink in, watching Blurr fidget a bit, obviously torn. He continued. “Mainly, as a… companion, he must pleasure me, since I am his owner and trainer, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t allowed to pleasure others. And it would please me greatly if he did pleasure you,” he purred, removing the hand that maintained Sentinel down and putting it on the Prime’s hip.

“I… I… it wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be right,” Blurr tried again, though he kept glancing at Sentinel and at his erected spike. Shockwave lightly stroked it, making Sentinel whine and Blurr gulp audibly. “I… I can’t just take advantage of him like that,” he tried.

“But you wouldn’t be taking advantage of him at all, Blurr,” Shockwave coaxed him. “You would actually be… helping him,” he said, pausing. In a swift move, he withdrew entirely from Sentinel’s valve, making the Prime cry out at the loss.

Sentinel felt his valve ripple and clench over nothing, his nodes feeling like they were on fire as the friction set them alight. He groaned loudly, not knowing if he should feel relief at the loss, or just whine, because his body was still desperate for an overload, and the abrupt emptiness had made his arousal drop, though his body was still riding a charge that didn’t want to dissipate. Through his reflection in the polished metal surface of the desk, he could see his optics had paled and were almost white in need and want.

“Hel… Helping him?” he heard Blurr asking hesitantly. Sentinel tried to rise as he could, but Shockwave’s arm snaked around his waist and pulled him backward as he sat down in his seat, making Sentinel sat in his laps. His spike, still coated in Sentinel’s lubricants, pressed hard against the dark blue mech’s backside. Sentinel shuddered. Shockwave’s hand lightly stroked his spike, and he moaned.

“Of course. I’m… mainly interested in his valve,” he heard the Con say. “I tend to… neglect his spike quite often, I’m afraid.” Sentinel wanted to snort. That was an understatement if he had ever heard one! Shockwave hit his spike, making him shout.  
“I… I don’t see…” Blurr trailed off.

“You must understand that I’m also looking out for Sentinel’s own good,” Shockwave said smoothly, and Sentinel almost laughed. Who was he trying to kid?! He was just a freaking pervert who enjoyed fragging like a petrorabbit with an unwilling partner! “I dislike putting too much of a strain on him or making him too ill-at-ease,” he continued. _Filthy liar_ , Sentinel thought. “You must understand that I’m also training him so he will be able to… have some intimate time with others without feeling shy,” he said diplomatically. _Yeah, right_ , Sentinel thought disdainfully. “Lately, I have received several messages from fellow Decepticons who he caught the optics of and who would like to… meet him,” the Decepticon continued. “They’re rather… insistent.”

Sentinel’s optics widened. Say what?! Was he actually serious?! Frag, no! He tried to get off the Decepticon’s laps, but Shockwave just strengthened his hold. “You must understand, Blurr, that I would never force Sentinel to do it unless he felt comfortable with the idea,” he said seriously. “However, I won’t always be able to refuse lending Sentinel’s services. And before I do, I’d rather like him to be trained further… and to be used to interface with more people. To do so, I’d feel better if he was with mechs I know I could trust,” he continued. The Intelligence Agent listened to him, still looking indecisive, while Sentinel kept writhing, trying to get out of his predicament.

“It would be very good for him,” Shockwave insisted, “if you could perhaps, ride his spike while I continue fragging him? He’d like it, I can guarantee it to you,” he added sounding smug. Blurr bite his lip, not knowing if he should believe it. He glanced hesitantly at Sentinel again and had to look away quickly once more. The way the Prime’s spike kept bobbing was… He swallowed dryly as he tried to make his vents work faster to cool down his frame.

“I…” he trailed off.

“What makes you so uncomfortable, Blurr?” the Decepticon asked, changing tactic slightly. “Is that touching him… or coming closer to me for doing so?” Blurr startled. Shockwave felt smug. “I do realize my appearance must be quite unsettling for you, after all that time you knew me as ‘Longarm’, and that you may be rather uncomfortable with my true face. I’m still the same mech, you agree?” Blurr nodded reluctantly; Shockwave may have changed face, but his work ethic and his way to treat his Agents hadn’t. “But even if I’m still the same, you don’t trust me…” shockwave trailed off. “Would you feel better if I… changed?” he asked gently.

Blurr, optics wide, felt himself nodding before realizing he did. It was true, in some way, he realized. He did miss Longarm’s face, even if he had been forced to accept the mech wasn’t real. Even knowing the mech was a Decepticon, he couldn’t deny he’d feel marginally more at ease if faced with his superior more familiar face.

Shockwave nodded. “Very well.” The transformation was almost instantaneous. Limbs became shorter and less massive, the frame became shorter and more compact, the clawed hands became normal digits, the blank, black face disappeared from view, the optic became just a red orb in the middle of a forehead, and a grey face adorned with blue optics appeared.

“Is that better?” ‘Longarm’ asked smoothly. Blurr nodded hesitantly.

Sentinel, for his part, felt like panicking. Not the ‘Longarm’ frame! Please, not the ‘Longarm’ frame he silently begged. The spike pressing against his backside had changed form, and despite the gag, he swallowed uneasily. Primus, no! Not again!

He hated it when Shockwave ‘changed’. His mass and frame might be different, but Sentinel had quickly learned that his interfacing components remained more or less the same. Or rather… their appearance adapted while still using as much protoform. ‘Longarm’s spike was shorter than Shockwave’s own, but it was much larger and thicker, to the point of being almost -- ok, completely -- obscenely large. It spread Sentinel’s valve so wide it was more than slightly uncomfortable and it was a real pain to deal with if he wasn’t prepared to it.

He tried to fight further, but ‘Longarm’ kept all of Shockwave’s strength, and his extensive limbs could tie him up easily. Sentinel keened and swore as he was grabbed by the hips and picked up, and he thrashed as ‘Longarm’ aligned his too-large spike with his valve and started to make the Prime sink on it. Sentinel threw his head back and screamed as he was stuffed full once more, his valve spread to the point he thought it was going to rip. Still, the whole length sunk easily into him, helped by the copious amount of lubricant Sentinel was still producing and the small amount still coating the spike when it entered. The massive member stroked all his nodes at once, and Sentinel thought he was going to overload on the spot. In a way, it would have been preferable, but Shockwave would have just coerced him through another and another.

As he was fully sat on the spike, Sentinel just stood immobile, shaking, unaware of Blurr’s stare and own shaking as he watched the very erotic view his former and current commander offered. Shockwave, for his part, wasn’t oblivious and tried not to smirk just yet.

“Please, Blurr, come closer. The chair is big enough for the three of us,” he said. It was true; now that he had reduced his size by becoming ‘Longarm’, the chair was indeed large enough for a third, smaller occupant to slide beside him and his pet. And Blurr was, imagine that, just the right time.  
Blurr hesitated once more, but his resistance was waning, so much was obvious. The Decepticon spy/Head of Intelligence decided to give a last push to his Agent’s final decision.

“You aren’t forced to ride him just yet, if it makes you so uncomfortable,” Shockwave said rather gently, still lightly stroking Sentinel’s spike, making sure to tease the mech but not let him overload just yet and making sure Blurr had a good view of the Prime’s rod. “How about you simply… touch him? Or perhaps… lick it? If that makes you feel better...”

Blurr nodded hesitantly. “I… I think I might prefer that,” he said voice shaking. Slowly, he walked around the desk to come and stand before the chair. ‘Longarm’s’ face broke into a smirk as Blurr reached and squeezed both his hands around Sentinel’s length.

Sentinel just keened through his gag. Frag it all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering...
> 
> Shockwave may have some genuine feelings for Blurr and his trying to 'seduce' him so he can have him as a mate, meaning an equal in a relationship, though as a (former) Autobot, it's clear his social status will always be lesser than Shockwave's own.  
> He is also manipulating him, let's be honest, so Blurr slowly lose his feelings of wrongness toward Sentinel's fate.
> 
> Sentinel is a pet, i.e. a convenient interface toy/slave for whom Shockwave feels mostly lust, so he will never amount for much into the new society unless Shockwave decide to change his status... which is very unlikely.


	3. Woe 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Woes snippet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In answer to a prompt given to me, here's a sneak peek into a Sentinel fic I'm working on but which hasn't been published yet, as it's unfinished. Granted, given how hard it is for me to actually finish my Sentinel fics those days, it might as well stay that way. :(  
> But even if it does, I swear I'll publish it here... Eventually.  
> In the meanwhile, enjoy that little glance into a new Sentinel Woes verse ;)

Sentinel couldn’t help it; he twitched. Was that imposing statue being raised behind the Altar supposed to be him? Okay, he could admit it was not a bad rendition of his handsome frame. His face was perfectly reproduced, from his mechly, handsome chin to his infamous smile. The shoulders were just as broad as his own, which was good. The rest of the statue, though... That didn’t look like him at all!

The chest was all wrong… but then again, since his own chest had been reformated to match one of the local wildlife’s head, it was still somewhat accurate. He looked in dismay at the Hydro-Hippo head adorning his frame. Well, as least it wasn’t as bad as the head on the statue-him, which also had those large… big… pouches things visible.

The worse, though, was the thighs… or rather, the area between the thighs.

The artisans having realised the statue had depicted him with his interface array visible, with the lips of his valve massively swollen. Ugh. The slag?! And right next to his statue-him was a statue of Pharaoh, in full royal regalia, crown on his head, scepter in hand, Lithium-Leopard’s skin threw over a shoulder… and with a massive spike of stone rising up between his legs. Sentinel couldn’t help it; he swallowed.

“Beautiful representations of our Divine selves, don’t you think, My Queen?” Pharaoh murmured at his audio receptor.

“Quite, My Pharaoh,” Sentinel found himself saying, though he thought the contrary. “Will we now honor the Fertility Gods on the Altar?” Ugh. He didn’t want to frag like that in the open, especially not as requirement to a pseudo fertility ritual! But his glossa seemed to have turned to lead in his mouth, like usual, and he could only grip his Bonded’s hand to squeeze it.

An arm tied itself around his waist. “Yes, My Beloved. I will lay you down on the stone altar, under the benevolent gaze of the Gods before I lay on top of you so we can mix our Divine Essences, Spark to Spark, my Divine Rod, symbol of Virility and Fertility in the folds of your Love Nest, symbol of Life. We will pray as we become one for their continued good graces and for the rivers kept flowing and rich in resources, while our statues will be carried around in a parade through town, so each one can worship us as we carry out our Divine duties. Palm-sized versions of our statues will be handed to those who wish to bring good fortune and good fertility to their lineage, to bring to their own Family Sanctuary and, following our example, they will too become One with their significant other, praying for a new life to grace their House.”

Primus, mechs were going to see and get handed reduced versions of that… that monstrosity to ‘worship’?! What was wrong with that planet? The arm around his waist tightened slightly, a hand already deftly playing with the belt maintaining his almost translucent shendyt closed.

“Come, My Divine Queen. It is time for the celebrations to begin…”


	4. Woe 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel gets used to his new 'pet' life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer to the following prompt: Sentinel/Decepticon - “Be a good pet and crawl to Master. My spike won’t suck itself.”
> 
> Aaand... because it seemed to gather positive reactions in the second chapter of Random Woes and in one of the chapter of 28 Woes, I once again picked Shockwave. XD
> 
> Enjoy <3

He hated that. He really, really hated that, Sentinel thought as he curled on the oversized cushion he was supposed to recharge on. Slagging Decepticons… and slagging Optimus! Wasn’t he and that team of his supposed to stop the ‘Cons from reaching Cybertron by defending that Space Bridge? Well, fat lot of chance here! Not only had they failed, but their failure had left Sentinel and the Elite Guard wholly unprepared to deal with the invasion forces!

… okay, if they themselves had failed, then it was highly irrational to think Optimus, a failed student, could have managed to with a Space Bridge repair crew. However, Sentinel was beyond caring at this point, because he felt utterly miserable and angry. Who wouldn’t been, in his position? Not only had he been knocked out, dragged in cuffs before a crew of Decepticons, received some sort of mock judgment than being shoved in the clutches of one of his former colleagues -- who had revealed he had been a traitor and a plant all the while!

Sentinel could have hit himself for not realizing sooner; how course there had been something fishy about Longarm Prime… Longarm… Shockwave! How blind he must have been not to see it sooner!

He turned on the cushion, feeling restless. His gaze lowered at himself and he watched crossly the collar around his neck. He had to resist the temptation to try and tug it off, knowing he would only get shocked for his effort; Shockwave had programmed the damn thing to effectively force him into compliance each time the Prime even looked like he’d try to take it off.

“Not sleeping yet, pet?” the hated voice of the Decepticon chuckled, making Sentinel stiffen and go to his knees, glaring at the purple cyclop who strolled into the room as if nothing was amiss in the world. Sentinel hissed. The cyclop just seemed to become more amused, if it was possible.

“Aww, don’t be like that, pet. Were you good today? Blurr pretended you were, but we both know how Blurr is; always lying to try to get himself… or you out of trouble. Truly, it’d be simpler for him to be more truthful,” he hummed thoughtfully as he walked to the berth. Sentinel just drew himself into a ball, while keeping his optics sharply on the Decepticon.

“Now, pet, how about you join me? I’m longing for some… intimate company,” Shockwave purred as he sat down. Sentinel briskled; here was the thing he hated most. It wasn’t so much the temporary block but on his vocalizer, or the obligation to crawl around on his hands and knees until he was given permission, no. Even the removal of most of his pelvic plating and most importantly, of his interface panel felt like a secondary problem. What really got to him was the fact that… that… that deviant requested interfacing favors from him, and saw no problem with forcing him to! And the worst? The worst was that if Sentinel didn’t obey, then he’d be forced to comply anyway and punished for ‘bad behavior. A shudder went through his back strut at the thought.

“Come on, Sentinel,” Shockwave cooed, spreading his legs wide. “Be a good pet and crawl to Master. My spike won’t suck itself, after all,” he added as he let his panel slide aside and his pressurized spike rose out of its housing, to Sentinel’s disgust. “Well, pet? Must I go get the crop?” he warned, and Sentinel jolted. Not the crop! So, with reluctance, he climbed on the berth.


	5. Woe 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Him Grimlock's mate isn't very cooperative...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer the following prompt: _Dinobot mate AU: Grimlock/Sentinel- “This me Grimlock’s cave. You Grimlock mate stay in cave!”_
> 
> This is a follow-up to the 'On Vacation' ficlet published in '28 Woes', if you're curious. :)

“Will you put me down, you… you… you oaf!” Sentinel screeched as he vainly tried to free himself from the hold the beast-like mech had on him, to no avail. The savage held him good, thrown over his shoulder face down like a sack, one arm securing his legs and the other fondling his aft under the pretense of keeping him still. Sentinel’s cheeks flushed with rage and shame. To think he was being manhandled by this… this thing!

And not just manhandled, too; that savage had dared to put his filthy servos on him… and his even filthier spike inside him!

“Did you hear me, you bumbling behemoth?! Put me down immediately, or I swear to Primus I’m going to…!”

“You Grimlock’s mate calm down,” the beast-like mech rumbled as he tightened his hold over Sentinel, squeezing his aft harder and making the blue mech squeak in surprise. “You Grimlock’s mate have been a naughty mech, trying to run away. You bad mate,” he chided as he continued to walk, crossing the village’s place and paying no mind the staring Dinobots around them. A few were laughing in good humor, obviously amused to see their King had had to run after his unruly mate first thing in the morning, when their first mating night had just been consumed.

“I’m not your mate!” Sentinel shouted for what felt like the hundredth time.

“She Spider Lady gave blessing,” Grimlock rumbled as they reached his cave and he pushed aside the fur curtain. “You be riding Grimlock’s spike under the moon and Her optics; you be Grimlock’s mate,” he insisted as he walked further inside.

“Elita has become crazy!” Assuming that freakish thing truly was Elita, and he had his doubts… even if she had his friend’s voice… and knew details nobody but her should have known! Even if, by some stretch of the imagination, it WAS Elita, then whatever had happened to her had gotten to her processor! “And there’s no way I’m staying in that dirty hole in the rock! It’s…”

“This,” Grimlock said as he dropped Sentinel on several pelts, making the blue mech yelp, “is me Grimlock’s cave.” He felt vaguely insulted by his mate’s remark. It was a very good cave, after all, much better than the huts some of his fellow Dinobots favored. It was sturdy and his mate would be safe inside. He let himself drop over Sentinel, pinning him on the pelt, panel retracting and spike already pressurizing. “You Grimlock’s mate stay in cave!” he almost roared, looking crossed. Silly mate who didn’t understand his place! Of course, they just mated for the first time last night; his mate didn’t yet know any better, but soon he would. The tribe leader’s mate shouldn’t try to leave the village; it was too dangerous. The tribe leader’s mate had to make Sparklings. They just needed to mate again and again for that. “So now me Grimlock say, you be good mate and you spread legs for me Grimlock so me Grimlock can make you Sparklings.”

Sentinel sputtered. “I won’t!” No way he was letting that savage frag him again! Yesterday had been a… a fluke, because he hadn’t been expecting it! No way he allowed the beast mech to do it again!


	6. Prompt Party Reply: Jettwins(Safeguard)/Sentinel- “I can take you both!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drafted into teaching the Jettwins about interfacing, Sentinel may have swallowed more than he was able to...

“So we be putting rod into hole, Mr Sentinel Prime Sir?” Jetfire asked curiously, hands in his laps and head tilted to the side as he looked at the weird pictures their superior officer had put on the black board. Next to him, his twin Jetstorm was biting his lower lips, hands holding his knees tightly.

Cheeks slightly red from embarrassment, Sentinel Prime nodded. “That’s right, soldier. When two mechs -- or a mech and a femme, or two femmes, as I explained before -- are interfacing, then one of the participant will put his spike, what you call a ‘rod’, into his partner’s valve. His ‘hole’,” he added when he saw both brothers exchange a puzzled look.

“But we don’t be understanding, Mr Sentinel Prime Sir,” Jetstorm finally said. “Why mechs be interfacing by putting thing into other people?”

“Because… because it feels very, very good,” Sentinel answered tentatively, wanting to groan and facepalm.

Seriously, why did he have to be the one to explain interfacing and its subtlety to the pair of youngsters before him? He had signed up to be their drill sergeant and superior officer, not to teach them about the ‘finer points of life’! Besides, they were in the Guard, and they were supposed to be old enough to know about it all already! Except, of course, that their memory files had been heavily damaged in whatever accident had resulted in their frame transfer and reconstruction, Sentinel thought with bitterness. And of course that part about interfacing would have been among the files they lost.

He could believe it -- grudgingly, but he could. He had read and seen weirder things while he climbed up the echelons to become a Prime and Ultra Magnus’ right hand. He also agreed that the Twins needed to be (re)taught, as interfacing played a big part in any adult Cybertronian’s life, and it wouldn’t do for the two youngster to get abused without knowing.

But why the slag had they decided he needed to be the one to teach them?! Why couldn’t Red Alert do it? She was a medic, for Primus’ sake! Or Jazz; Jazz was a known berth hopper who wouldn’t have minded ‘coaching’ the Jettwins!

No, of course; they wouldn’t ask the Cyberninja. They would ask Sentinel, over the fact the Twins ‘believed and respected him more than Jazz’ or some nonsense of the like.

Thus why he currently was in the delicate process of teaching the pair of happy-go-lucky kids what was behind their panel, and how it was used. It was so embarrassing… and, to his shame, he couldn’t help but find it arousing. The Twins were so… eager to learn, even if they didn’t seem to quite grasp how serious it was. They were both good looking, and as he had said, eager to learn. The very thought was sending a tingle down Sentinel’s systems. He wondered if it was Jazz’s plan -- stupid Ninja kept muttering about the fact the Prime needed to get laid more often, Sentinel knew it.

“Mr Sentinel Prime Sir, we be wondering…” Jetfire finally said after a moment.

“... them pictures, we don’t understand. You could be showing us what real thing like? Mr Sentinel Prime Sir?”

Sentinel gulped. “I… suppose I could,” he said carefully, fighting down a sudden urge to discard his panel and just start pawing at the two younger mechs, before frowning. “You don’t seem to want to, though,” he noted. That was weird.

“Oh, we be wanting, Mr Sentinel Prime Sir!” the twins assured him. “But… you be saying two partners…”

Oh. “Well, most of the time, there are two, but there can be more,” Sentinel said with a thin smile.

“So you be showing us both?” the twins asked together.

Sentinel raised his chin with pride. “Of course! I can take you both!”

Such bold words! Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so prideful, as the following megacycle showed him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be continuing this one eventually, though I have no idea when. 


	7. Prompt Party Reply - Victorian AU drabbles - 'Marry for money' and “Hello, Lady Sentinel. So good to see you again.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel's family is in dire financial troubles. The solution? Marry their son for money, of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snippets in a pseudo Victorian-verse. *Sighs* I imagine so many plots, and not even half of them get to be turned into full fics...

**Victorian!AU: Sentinel/? -marry for money**

He was going to suffocate!

“It’s too tight,” Sentinel gasped out as the maid continued to pull on the cords of the corset he had been outfitted with. Behind them, Sentinel’s Carrier looked sharply at her Creation, surveying the process.

“Nonsense, dear,” she waved. “You’ll get used to it soon enough. Make sure to double the knots; knowing my son and how unused he is to wearing a proper Lady’s attire, he’ll break them otherwise.” The maid just nodded and Sentinel continued to gasp as the corset was properly laced, and could only grumble unhelpfully as he was presented a dress to pass overall.

“Stop grumbling, Sentinel,” his Carrier said sharply. “You need to try and smile for our guests, remember. We need you to catch a good match’s optic, and we need to do so as soon as possible. Money is running tight, after all,” she finished, tense.

Sentinel grimaced. As if he needed to be reminded!

Briefly, he cursed his Uncle, Ultra Magnus. But even more, he cursed his old friend Optimus! Ultra Magnus, his Sire’s much older half-brother, had been unmarried so far and Sentinel had been his designated heir in absence of any other contestant. His Carrier and him had hoped to touch the older mech’s inheritance when the time was right, and had been living on his generosity and the promise of more wealth upon his death. And then, out of the blue, Ultra Magnus had disappeared for a whole stellar cycle to the colony, only to come back married, not only to one of Sentinel’s oldest Sparklinghood’s friends whom the old mech had seen grown, but also with a Sparkling in his arm, his legitimate heir! His will had been amended, and it was clear now Sentinel would never inherit the Magnus’ fortune -- not with Optimus already Sparked up for the second time!

Sentinel could have accepted things gracefully… if his Carrier and him hadn’t been so near financial ruin! Sure, his Sire Nova had left them some money, and Ultra Magnus still gave them a stipend, but without any hope for more, their fortune had dwindled considerably.

And Sentinel’s Carrier refused to be reduced to a pauper. Sentinel didn’t want to end up poor either, but…

Why was the only solution possible was to offer his hand in marriage as a submissive mate?!

Well… it was true no good, noble family would marry their pretty daughter or son as a submissive for a ruined family -- and they would know, Sentinel had no doubt. But the mere thought him, a handsome mech who was the picture of the perfect gentlemech, had to suddenly change his plans to become someone’s trophy Bonded? Ugh.

“Now, dear, I’ve invited several good potential candidates,” his Carrier droned. “First off, there’s the Earl Alpha Trion…”

Sentinel choked. “Are you kidding? He’s almost twice as old as Uncle Ultra!”

“He’s old, but he’s rich, and a noble to boot!” His Carrier said sharply, optics narrowed. “Rich enough he wouldn’t bat an optic at taking a poor bride! There aren’t so many, in case you forgot! Unless you want to end up poor and” she shuddered “working!”

Sentinel gulped. “Of course not,” he mumbled.

His Carrier nodded. “He might not be so young anymore, but Bonding to him would allow us to keep our standing in society by avoiding a misalliance,” she commented. “Besides, given how old he is, you may not stay married to him for long should he prove interested by your hand in marriage. However, let’s not be hasty. He hadn’t taken a Consort or even a mistress in vorns, and he isn’t lacking in choice. We need to explore other options. Aside of the Earl, the best candidates for your hand and to save us from financial ruin would be the business tycoon Swindle and the mines mogul and budding politician Megatron.”

“But they’re… commoners,” Sentinel said, looking as if he had smelled something foul.

“And once again, they’re rich! Rich, and in need of some nobles connections to prosper! We may be on the verge of ruin, but at least we still have our Name and our relations. They’re worth a lot for some people!” She calmed down. “To Megatron especially, if he wants to gain the support of more Senators who won’t be bothered to back up a ‘commoner’. I’ve heard he already made connections to important figures such as Senator Shockwave. If it’s true, he might be promised to a brilliant future -- which would be good for you. Swindle, in the meanwhile, is seeking to secure trades with some high Houses we’re related to, and he’s recently bought back several trading ships companies. He has money to spare and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d became one of Cybertron’s richest mech. As you see, they’re all great potential spouses for you.”

Sentinel grunted noncommittally. The idea of getting Bonded to one of those… individual was disgusting! He stood quiet and silent as the maid finally finished to button the dress -- a big flowery thing with many petticoats to give it more volume.

The femme looked over at Sentinel before nodding. “You look delicious. Your suitors will approve. Well, let’s go downstair to prepare and greet our guests; I’ll fill you on the rest of the possible but less prominent suitors later, shall I?” Her gaze softened and she put a hand on her Creation’s shoulder. “You’re not forced to choose today, Sentinel dear. Just meet them, and see if perhaps one of them is acceptable. Our options are limited, of course, but I won’t see you completely unhappy.”

Sentinel didn’t say anything. He didn’t believe her. When money was on the line, his Carrier never considered anyone else’s good.

**Victorian!Au: Sentinel - “Hello, Lady Sentinel. So good to see you again.”**

“Well, well, well. My optics weren’t playing tricks on me, after all. Hello, Lady Sentinel. So good to see you again.”

Sentinel bristled as he heard the drawl. Slowly, he turned, mentally seething even as he tried to smile politely at the mech who had come behind him. “Hello to you as well, Mirage. How are you doing?”

Small talk. Make small talk and then excuse himself as quick as possible, Sentinel repeated to himself. Usually, he had nothing against Mirage -- the mech had been a rather interesting fellow to hang around with. A good hunter who could handle his fair share of high grade and tell the most fascinating gossip or break into sarcastic tirades, Mirage was well-appreciated in some circles -- the fact he was a Noble of high standing and filthy rich certainly helped. Right now, though, Sentinel would have prefered not to see him. He should have checked over the guests list his Carrier had put down together!

“Oh, I’m perfectly well,” the yellow-eyed mech grinned as he looked at Sentinel up and down, obviously amused. “Such a nice dress, Lady Sentinel. It does suit you.”

Sentinel grimaced, and Mirage laughed. “Aw, don’t make a face, old friend,” he said soothingly. “I had heard the rumors, but I hadn’t thought they were true. So your Carrier is really that desperate?”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about Mirage,” Sentinel said as calmly as he could, trying to quell his sudden rising panic. “Carrier and I decided commonly that it would be better for me to…”

“Spare me the official explanations, Sentinel. I’m not a fool, and I’ve audios everywhere,” Mirage said as he sipped a cube of energon. “The fact you’re nearly ruined might not be well-known to most, but I’m fully aware of it. She decided to sell you off, then?”

Sentinel looked right and left covertly before his shoulders sagged. “We don’t have much choices left, given Optimus seduced my Uncle.” His fists tightened as he remembered why exactly he was wearing a dress and trying to subtly dodge the ‘suitors’ his Carrier had invited along with a crowd of usual guests.

“Too bad,” Mirage said, and if he’s tone was light, his optics held care. “Hopefully, it won’t be so bad and you won’t be forced to make a misalliance.”

Sentinel snorted. “As if you cared about misalliances! You’re romancing a commoner, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Hound is far more than a commoner,” the noble smirked.


	8. Centaur!Sentinel/? - “I don’t want to be your mare! Stay away from me!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel is a pretty mare...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short snippet born from a prompt following a discussion concerning possible Sentinel Woes I had with a friend. Enjoy <3

Sentinel tensed as he heard yet another herd member come up behind him as he picked berries alongside a few other designated for the chore. For a moment, he pretended not to have heard or smelt the newcomer and continued to fill his basket as if nothing was wrong, actually humming under his breath. But, as soon as he felt the stallion -- because he knew it was a stallion -- coming closer and breach his personal space, he send his rear legs back with as much force as he could in a kick.

The gasp of pain he heard as they connected with a torso filled him with dark pride and he turned, already screaming.

“I already told the first seven stallions who came my way today the same thing, so listen up here, pal: I don’t want to be your mare! Stay away from me! Did you hear you… uh oh,” he gulped as he saw exactly who he had hit. “Ultra Magnus, Sir! I’m sorry!” he excused himself dropping his basket and nervously rubbing his hands together even as his hooves rattled the ground.

The older mech didn’t seem amused the slightest. “Sentinel,” he said coldly, rubbing the spot he had been hit. “I thought we had had a discussion with the Elders of the herd. You have already skipped your responsibilities four times. There won’t be a fifth,” he warned. “It’s high time you start giving the herd a few foals, and the sooner the better.”

Sentinel shook his head vehemently. Respected leader of the herd and most powerful stallion or not, there was no way he was listening to Ultra Magnus or mechs like that old coot Alpha Trion. He didn’t want to have foals! “With all due respect, Sir, I already told you I…!”

“What you want and what you need to do are two different things, Sentinel!” the older mech snapped and Sentinel jerked back. “The herd took too many losses these last vorns, and it’s high time we replenish our ranks. Your generation has already started contributing. Most of them are on their second or third foal by now, like your friend Optimus. You’re the only one who’s yet to give one to the herd!”

Sentinel fidgeted. “Well, I don’t…!”

“Suffice.” The older mech was watching him coldly. “Your next heat is nearing, and this time, Sentinel, you will abide by the Elders’ wish. It’s time you stop being stubborn and act like a true mare of the Autobot Herd.”


	9. Harem woes: Sentinel/Quintessons- breaking in the new mech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel is not an happy mech...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of a series of prompts for a verse that didn't really take off -- though I have a few more like this in reserve.

The tentacles were sliding all over his frame, and Sentinel yelped as they started to dig into seams, getting everywhere, stroking his plating, groping his aft, fondling his thighs and rubbing insistently against his interface panel. The Prime shook his head -- or at least attempted to. He would have cursed, but given there was already three tentacles pumping in and out of his mouth and muffling any sound he tried to make, he only managed an infuriated sound as he glared at his molesters.

Freaking Quintessons!

“Mmapaphh!!!”

One of the ugly tentacled-freak taking liberties with his frame looked down at him with an unamused look. “This one is impertinent,” he noted. “I would have thought slaves sold for so much would be broken in already.”

Sentinel twitched. He was no one’s slave! And certainly not the slave of one of those organics!

“On the contrary, Husband,” the second Quintesson, the one with the higher voice and who, if Sentinel had any guess, was a female of the species. “Expensive slaves can be sold still wild, to give their Masters the pleasure of taming them themselves. I prefer it that way, truly; you know what a ‘bot can accomplish when you trained him yourself to perform,” she said, almost purring.

“The idea has some merit,” the Quint said. “However, given of defiant he is, I don’t think we should trust him with our sons yet.”

“Of course not,” the female said even as her tentacles searched for the manual command to Sentinel’s panel. “He needs to be properly broken in before he’s trusted with the other members of the household, or the other members of our harem. I dare to think we won’t be too long at the task,” she rumbled before cooing in triumph as she managed to make the Prime’s panel slide aside, revealing his valve and spike sheath.

Sentinel’s optics widened and he jerked back, even as a tentacle started to boldly poke at the folds of his port...


	10. Christmas AU: 'Wrapping the gifts' and 'Stocking stuffers'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decepticons are throwing a party for Christmas, and there are gifts to be given! Curiously, Sentinel (and a handful of others) aren't nearly as excited by the upcoming celebrations. But then, again, given they're the gifts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two prompts written last year that I had never posted -- mostly because I had hoped to expand them a little, but it didn't happen. So since it's the season to be jolly, let's post them anyway ;)
> 
> Oh, and we don't see that much of Sentinel, but it seemed appropriate to post it there.

“We should totally deck the halls with pretty Autobots! Ahahahahah!” Random’s head spinned around, his laughter echoing in the room at the same time as numerous muffled shouts and protests. The triplechanger grinned, only to be hit behind the head by the heavy hand of General Strika.

“Stop being such a nuisance and help us wrap the gifts,” she ordered the other Decepticon in a grunt as she put down the captive mech she had been carrying over her shoulder. “We’re late enough as it is and I won’t allow the ‘Christmas Eve’ of our Lord Megatron to be ruined by poor preparatives.”

“It would have gone much faster if you had allowed your Consort to help us,” Icy Blitzwing pointed out as he knelt down, hands full of colorful ribbons, and started to work on the mech Strika had just delivered to him, tying them up in the most artistic way he could.

“I intend for him to have a true surprise as well, so it was impossible,” the large femme declared matter of factly as she too knelt down after surveying the room one last time, nodding in satisfaction. The dinner table was ready to greet them all, the tree shone with little lights and tiny Decepticon sigils -- far nicer than those balls humans used’ -- garlands hung from everywhere, and they just needed to finish wrapping their gifts for the evening to be perfect.

Which, sadly, was taking longer than planned due to the gifts fighting them at every turn and refusing to be properly wrapped. She gave the blue Autobot she had knelt besides a stern look as the big-chinned mech groaned and squirmed, legs kept wide open by spread bars tied to his knees and ankles. Blitzwing had tied him up in nice red ribbons and bows, not forgetting to properly gag him with a homemade ‘christmas treat’, a large red and white stick locked between his jaw. It was nothing, though, compared to the one the triplechanger had nestled in the blue mech’s bare valve and secured with more ribbons. It must have been quite hot and tight inside that valve, because the treat had started to melt already.

Strika hummed pleasantly as a cursory look at the rest of the gifts -- the rest of those Earth Autobots she had personally gone to capture and bring as trophies and gifts to her Lord and Master -- informed her the same held true with the other presents. She grinned; the Decepticons were going to have such a nice treat tonight!

She could only hope Lord Megatron would enjoy his own...

*-*-*-*-*

“The constant moaning and grumbling is starting to get annoying,” Blitzwing’s Icy persona stated calmly as he brought in several closed boxes. His face switched to Hot, who scowled fiercely. “Yeah! Especially since you said hand off until tonight midnight!” His face spinned again, letting Random in control. “Though we can give them a good reason to moan then, hee hee hee!”

Strika didn’t even glance down at him or at the ‘presents’ who were now conveniently all ‘wrapped’ under the tree. She had even put little tags here and there to let the guests know which one(s) were destinated to them -- one was hanging from the grumpy blue mech’s helmfins, another from the medibot’s chevron, and so on -- and she was now busy putting the final touch to the room’s decoration before she started on the meal.

“There,” she huffed with satisfaction. “Some mistletoes. I’ve heard it’s very important for the festivities -- and given the customs I’ve read about, I can understand why. So, what were you saying?”

“I was saying, their moaning is starting to affect me,” Icy Blitzwing returned. “Are you sure we must wait?”

“Yes we will,” Strika snapped. “Have some self-restraint, soldier! Now finish your task and put those complementary presents in the stockings,” she ordered, pointing out at the makeshift ‘chimney’ they had constructed in a corner and where a fire was burning in a barrel.

“On it!” Random giggled, foraging through the boxes he had been carrying and exhibiting a wrapped package. Well, a package in the loosest sense of the term; the form was a dead give away to the content. One didn’t need to have been a true spike to recognize a large false spike. “Someone is going to have a good niiiiiight,” he singsonged as the muffled protests of the wrapped Autobots increased.

“Are you speaking about them or about us?” Strika asked, raising an optic ridge. She was clearly amused.

Blitzwing laughed. “Now, that’d be telling!”


End file.
